When Push Comes to Love
by Arctimon
Summary: Sometimes the worst things that happen in life can lead to some of the best. Through confrontation and pain we can find someone that can help us get through them. Both Katie and Irving will find this out...the hard way. K/I. The final chapter is now up!
1. Monitor the Situation

Wow, it's been a while since I've done a multi-chaptered story. We'll see if I can keep up with updates.

_**DISCLAIMER:** All characters of Phineas and Ferb are the property of Dan Povenmire, Jeff "Swampy" Marsh, and Disney Channel. Any insinuation otherwise will result in the loss of an appendage. And you don't get to pick.  
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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1 - Monitor the Situation<strong>_

Katie Brooke adjusted the red sash over her chest, opposite of her tan Fireside Girls one. The large capital letters were apparent, the words "HALL MONITOR" clearly visible for any passerby to see. This was her week as the fifth grade hall monitor, and as this was not a duty just anyone could have, she was determined to do a proper job. Of course, she had heard horror stories from past monitors (Gretchen in particular told of pulling six kids out of their lockers in one afternoon), but hopefully she wouldn't have to do that. For one, Katie didn't have the arm strength. Gretchen had to enlist the help of Buford to pull them out (ironic, Katie thought, because Buford put three of them in to begin with). Still, it was a great opportunity, so as Katie set off down the hall after meeting with the other grades' monitors, she set in her mind to do the best that she could.

Monitors were allowed to be in the halls ten minutes before the ending bell to ensure there would be nothing holding up traffic between periods, so this gave Katie a little time to reflect on the whirlwind year she had had. Being sworn into Fireside Girls Troop 46231 as the youngest member had been an exciting day for her. So was getting to meet Phineas and Ferb for the first time. She remembered that day vividly, since the kids where she used to live didn't construct giant things on a daily basis, much less the radio tower they were building. Helping on that project was memorable, if only for seeing Isabella, her troop leader, get flustered whenever Phineas spoke to her.

Katie turned the corner and headed past the sixth grade lockers, lost in her thoughts. Running her fingers over the numbers as she walked past, she saw that she was nearing locker #373, the residence of her most favorite person in the world.

And the feeling would be mutual too, she hoped...if she ever got the nerve to tell him-

Uh oh.

Looking up, Katie saw that said locker was currently occupied by its resident, the very same person that she had been thinking about seconds ago. From the looks of it, he was busy rummaging through it, presumably looking for something.

For a fleeting moment, Katie considered turning around and going back. However, she was already halfway down the hall, and her composure wouldn't allow her to escape as quietly as she had approached. Plus, she had a job to do. Making sure kids had hall passes during classes was part of the duties of a monitor. It didn't matter who that kid was.

She slowly made her way down the hall, as to not startle him. As soon as she got into his shoulder, she cleared her throat.

"Hi, Irving."

He looked up from his locker, just noticing Katie standing next to him. "Oh, hey Katie."

Now that she was properly close to him, she could see that his hair was damp, the water now residing in a towel on the top shelf of his locker.

"So...whatcha'-" Katie stopped herself, knowing that it would not be wise for Isabella's catchphrase to be uttered anywhere in her vicinity. "Sorry. What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing," Irving said as he wiped his hair back. "The usual. Just failing miserably at trying to go a day without running into Dylan."

Katie grimaced. Dylan was a bully at the school, not unlike Buford, that spent most of his days shadowing Irving. However, while Buford's relationship with Baljeet was mostly good, Dylan and Irving's was anything but. They weren't friends (not in the slightest), and most meetings ended up with Irving's head in a random object.

"I take it this was Dylan's doing?" Katie asked, motioning toward his hair.

"Yep." He grabbed a book from his locker and stuffed it into his backpack. "Today was a toilet. I sort of wish it was a trashcan like last week. He grabbed me on my way to third period and spent the entire time keeping me in the bathroom." He looked at her, a frown on his face. "I suppose you have to report me for not having a hall pass?"

"Irving, I'm not going to report you."

"That's kind of your job though. You wouldn't be much of a hall monitor if you weren't monitoring the halls."

Katie shook her head. "If there's anyone I should be reporting, it's Dylan. This is at least the fifth time this month he's skipped class. It doesn't help that he was skipping class to pick on you. I know that you couldn't help it because of him."

Irving closed his locker, looking down at the floor. It seemed as if he was avoiding any eye contact. "...Thanks, Katie."

"No problem." She was grateful that he couldn't see the small blush on her cheeks. "Listen, why don't you tell someone about Dylan? A teacher, a counselor, anyone?"

"I don't know." Irving turned and slumped down the wall of lockers, his mood continuing to sour. "I don't want to cause any trouble."

"Irving, you're being bullied. You shouldn't have to take any abuse from anyone, Dylan or otherwise."

"Baljeet gets picked on all the time, and I don't see you sticking up for him."

"Well..." Katie didn't want to divulge her complicated feelings about him, but she recovered quickly from her pause. "Buford _was_like that in the beginning. Even though he can still be a righteous idiot and a jerk sometimes, he's mellowed out quite a bit. He's not a bad guy; Baljeet can attest to that. He's gotten a lot better over time."

Irving glanced down the hallway, saying nothing. Katie, despite herself, sat down next to him, mirroring his stance.

"Let's just go to the principal's office and talk to Mr. Humphries. He has to be able to do something about Dylan. I know for a fact that he's disciplined Buford before, and not even Buford is dumb enough to cross him a second time."

The boy sat his head on his arms, chin resting atop them. It looked to appear in deep thought about the situation.

"Here." Katie reached into her pocket and pulled out a red slip of paper and pen. "I will _give_ you a late slip that the principal can sign so that you won't get in trouble with your next class. I don't even have to come with you, if you don't want me to," she said, signing the paper with a flourish. Finished, she slipped it in between his fingers. "Just go talk to him."

Irving looked at the strip of paper, then back at Katie. The frown was still on his face. "Why are you doing this?"

The blonde giggled, rolling her eyes. "I think you said that earlier. It's kind of my job."

"No, not...that. This," he corrected, waving the slip for emphasis. "Why do you care so much about it?"

Confused, Katie cocked her head. "I don't understand."

"I've been under the impression that no one seems to really care about what happens to me," he said dejectedly. "I come here, get made fun of, get shoved around like I'm nothing, and I go home. And I get to do the same thing over and over again. No one seems to care."

"Irving..."

"Sometimes I feel like it would be better for everyone if I just left. Went away, and then people can go on with their lives without ever having to tell that I was even among them. Things would be so much simpler."

"Irving, stop it. You're scaring me."

"Actually, that doesn't sound like a bad idea. I wouldn't have to deal with Dylan anymore. Or anyone that messes with me, for that matter. Not that they would notice me being gone, anyway-"

SLAP!

Katie did not remember vaulting up in a fit of anger. She didn't remember bringing her hand back and careening it forward with the force of a hammer. She didn't remember connecting with Irving's cheek, leaving a bright red mark where it had hit him.

The very next thing she _did _remember was Irving's stunned face, glasses askew.

"..._Ow_. What was that-"

"Shut up."

"What?"

"I said shut up." Katie's entire body was shaking with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Don't talk about yourself like that. I don't like it when people do that."

"It's all true, though. Wouldn't it be-"

Katie had enough. With one fluid motion, she seized the front of Irving's shirt, and with the strength of a non-ten-year-old girl, pressed him up against the wall.

"No, Irving. No, it wouldn't. That is _never_ the answer. You work to try to solve your problems, not take the easy way out."

The boy was struggling mightily to get out of the Fireside Girl's grasp, but to no avail. "Katie, you have no idea what it's like to be me. You don't have to deal with bullies and people calling you names behind your back every day."

Katie's vision was blurry from the angry tears threatening to fall, but she didn't need to see him in order for her to talk. "Yes, maybe I don't know what it's like to be bullied. Yes, maybe I don't know how someone can dislike another person just for the heck of it. _But..._I know what it's like to feel as if you're alone and no one's there. I used to be the new girl around here. Heck, I'm _still_ the new girl. It took me some time and effort to come out of my shell. But I got through it. And you can too."

Irving narrowed his eyes, still hesitant about talking to a somewhat deranged girl. Taking a chance, he asked ,"And what makes you so sure I can do that?"

"Because I believe in you."

"OK, let me ask you something again. Why do you care?"

"Because I care about you, _you idiot!_"

She had not meant to say that.

But then again, that whole "not thinking" thing was never really working for her to begin with.

Katie froze, her eyes growing wide and her mind going blank. Irving's were just as big; the other thing she noticed was that he was no longer trying to worm out of her grip.

"...You what?"

_BRRRRIIIINNNGGGG!_

The bell reverberated through the hallways, shaking Katie out of her reverie. She could hear the rustling of chairs being scraped in the classrooms and some of the doors being opened. If anyone saw her with him like this...she would never hear the end of it.

She let Irving's shirt go, trying to shake the cobwebs out of her head. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I..."

She couldn't go on. All of her effort and strength had suddenly vanished with the bell.

"Take it." Katie grabbed the permission slip off of the ground, having been lost in the momentary confusion, and shoved it into Irving's chest. "Go talk to the principal." Her voice sounded distant, like it was on the other side of the school. Wiping her eyes, she stood straight, gathering her composure.

Or at least attempting to.

"I have to go."

With that, she turned on the spot, wishing to God that her disheveled look would go away. She set off down the hallway...

Leaving a stunned Irving in her shadow.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> Wow, this chapter got very serious there for a second. That wasn't my original course of action...but hey. It serves a purpose.

Before anyone says anything...yes, I do know what it's like to be bullied. I was bullied a lot in grade school and high school, for various reasons. It is not fun. It is never fun. I can't say that I have ever gotten to the train of though that Irving had in here, but it was still pretty bad for a while. So I was writing somewhat from the heart when I drew this up.

Unlike my other stories involving Fireside Girl pairings, this will not be a one-shot. There will be four chapters in total. Chapter 2 was originally going to be part of this one, but since this is the only chapter in Katie's POV (and there's a reason for that), I stuck it on its own. The rest of the story will go to Irving.

Chapter 2 will be shorter, but there will definitely be more action going on. It will still have a serious tone to it, but do stick around for the next few chapters; I promise it will not stay that way for its entirety.

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


	2. A Load of Bully

__My apologies for taking that unannounced break. A myriad of things happened that didn't allow me to update this story, none of which are impersonal enough to disclose here. Anyways, enough with the pretense. Let's get going.

_**DISCLAIMER:** Everything is owned by someone else. I own nothing._

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 2 - A Load of Bully<strong>_

_What the heck just happened?_

Irving repeated this to himself as the halls began to fill up with the usual amount of traffic. The red piece of paper was in his hand, still shoved in the same spot Katie had forced it into.

But that was the last thing on his mind.

_Where did all of that come from?_

It didn't make any sense.

Katie wasn't what he would call a close friend. Sure, they would talk sometimes at school (at lunch, mostly) but the previous conversation was easily the most they had ever said to each other. The few times that he had been over Phineas and Ferb's house to help with a Big Idea found him in the company of the brothers' friends, including her.

And it wasn't that he didn't consider her one at all. He did. Isabella's troop was, if nothing, cordial to him at school.

But this?

Irving couldn't wrap his head around it.

The kids continued to walk past him, not bothered by Irving's little mind trip, instead heading off to either their next class or lunch. The good thing about his nerdiness was that besides the bullies, everyone else pretty much stayed out of his way.

Irving shook his head, bringing his mind back to the present. There was no point in thinking about it anymore; the bustle of the crowd was starting to overwhelm the hallway, and it was time for him to go to his next class.

Unless...

He glanced at the paper in his hand. He supposed it wouldn't _hurt_ to go talk to the principal; he had talked to Mr. Humphries once before, and he seemed to be a nice guy. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

He slipped the paper into his pocket, turning his attention to the task at hand. Thinking about Katie any longer wasn't going to get him anywhere. He would be sure to bring her up the principal, though, since he would have to explain where he got the pass from.

Irving headed toward the front of the school, where the administrative offices were. He was still thinking about what he was going to say to the principal; it wasn't as if he was looking to get Dylan in trouble, but even he was beginning to realize the situation was getting a little out of hand.

"So there I was, sitting in the bathroom, when all of a sudden, he shows up!"

He stopped, his ears perked up. The voice around the corner was the very last one he wanted to hear right now. Unfortunately, that was the exact way he needed to go in order to complete his walk. He peeked his head around the corner...

Just as he suspected.

Dylan was with a group of his friends, blocking the majority of the hallway. It was one of his most annoying pastimes, granted people he liked access through and people he didn't like a difficult time. Usually he would just bum a dime or quarter out of them, but for the special few (aka Irving), they were left to take the long way around to the other wing of the school.

Irving looked him over. The greasy black hair, the heavy-set build, the stupid steel-toed boots he wore all of the time, the grandiose way he was animating his arms, no doubt describing his encounter to all of his stupid friends. The raucous laughter that was accompanying them drowned out everything else from Dylan's diatribe, but it didn't take a rocket scientist (or Ferb) to figure out what he was talking about.

He could feel his face getting hot. Everything about Dylan just rubbed him the wrong way, and it was making him mad. He was a punk. He was a jerk. He was a grade-A-

Irving took a deep breath to try to calm himself. Yes, he was all of those things, but none of that changed the situation at hand, or the fact that Dylan still was a head taller and had about 30 pounds on him. He had to get to the office, and the quickest way was through Dylan. But if the bully stopped him and got the nerve to search him, he would find the slip. And then he would be in an entirely different world of hurt.

"_Dylan!_"

The yell drew the attention of the gang in front of him, as well as almost blasting out the eardrums of Irving. Whoever it was, they sure knew how to make their voice heard. Craning his neck, Irving drew his attention down the hallway to see Katie stomping toward them, with a resentful look on her face.

Crap.

Sensing a confrontation, most of the students left in the hallway did what a lot of kids would do: gather around to see what sort of shenanigans would erupt. Carefully, Irving walked behind a pack of interested students as to avoid detection. He arrived at the edge of the makeshift circle just as Katie arrived, hands on her hips as she gazed up at Dylan.

"I've been informed that you were skipping class again, Dylan. Is that true?"

Dylan stole a look at one of his gang, apparently surprised that someone would talk to him so directly. Receiving a shrug in response, he replied "Yeah, what of it?"

"You know I'm going to have to report you."

"Whatever," Dylan replied nonchalantly. "You can report me as many times as you want, Missy. It's still not going to do anything."

"Perhaps if I put a count of bullying on your record as well, you would care."

"Really?" Dylan leaned forward into Katie's face, who from Irving's viewpoint was not backing down from him. "Did little Irv run off to his _girlfriend_ and tell him that?"

Irving could see her face get the slightest twinge of pink, but her voice was still as steady as ever. "Whoever told me that prefers to remain anonymous, as it is their right to do so." She pulled out a small blue sheet of paper out of her pocket, and with the click of her pen, began to write. "That's irrelevant anyway. You can bring it up at the appeal meeting with the principal if you want."

"Whoa, hey!" Dylan held his hands in front of him. "What are you doing?"

"Writing you up, of course," Katie replied, not looking up from her paper. "I _did_ tell you I was going to do that."

"I thought you were joking!"

"I'm the hall monitor, Dylan; I don't joke about my job."

The bully thought for a moment, and Irving knew that mischievous look on his face never lead to anything good.

And it didn't.

Dylan reached down and yanked the half-complete form from Katie's grasp, holding it high above his head. "Can't report me if you don't have the form, can ya?"

Katie rolled her eyes, pulling out the ream of additional blue slips from her pocket. "I have more than one slip, Dylan."

"Crap!" He paused, then quickly grabbed the bundle, putting it with the other slip. "There, now ya don't have any!"

Irving saw Katie jump to reach her papers, but to no avail. The crowd that had gathered was beginning to laugh at the situation. Taking a quick glance around, he couldn't see any of her troop or Phineas and Ferb around. Surely one of them was going to stop this nonsense, right?

The blonde stopped jumping, smoothing out her hair. "Fine. You want to be like that, Dylan?" She turned on the spot, getting ready to walk off down the hallway. "Let's see how Principal Humphries likes the way you handled this situation."

Dylan, who had been busy reveling in his earlier triumph, did not immediately register her comment until she had taken a few steps toward the office area. In a flash, she grabbed her arm and lifted her up to his eye level, staring her down with his most dangerous face. "No one's going to rat me out. Not even you."

Katie, to her credit, kept a straight face, although Irving could tell that she was getting a little apprehensive about being in the clutches of the bully. He couldn't see how this was going to end anything short of bad.

Unless someone did something about it.

Irving looked to his left and right. No one in the crowd seemed inclined enough to intervene. And her troop and friends were somewhere else, not able to break it up either.

There was only one option left.

His hand instinctively went into his pocket, grazing the slip Katie had given him earlier. Sighing, he began to make his way through the students. He was going to regret this later.

Oh, _how_ he was going to regret this later.

"Dylan, you can't just do whatever you want all of the time," Katie said, squirming in his grasp. "There are consequences-"

"And they send out little know-it-alls like you to say what's right and what not?" Dylan retorted. "Yeah, like _that's_ ever going to work. There ain't no one out there that can touch me."

"If you want to believe that, that's fine." Katie looked him square in the eye. "But we both know that's not true."

"It _is_ true, smarty-pants. Whether you like it or not." He looked at his gang, who all nodded in silent agreement. "You know, I'm in a giving mood today. I feel like I can help you out with your 'job' and all." He waved a finger across Katie's sash. "You can do a lot better job monitoring the halls if you can see all of it." He stepped forward to the wall, reaching for a vacant locker. "Let's see how you like the view from in here-"

"Let her go, Dylan."

The bully, as well as the rest of the crowd, turned their heads to see the person who had just spoke. Irving had finally arrived in the middle of the crowd, dusting off his shirt. For a moment, Dylan looked stunned, but he collected himself in an instant.

"Well, well, well! Look who finally decided to show up. Did you like your bath, Little Irv?"

"Let her go," Irving repeated.

"We're just hanging out here, Irv," Dylan said, motioning to Katie. "No reason for your girlfriend to go away, right?"

He looked at Katie, who was glancing between the two of them. For the first time since this started, she seemed rather nervous. The feeling was not exclusive to her, however; he had had a bad feeling from the start, and his current conversation was not helping matters.

"Your beef is with me, Dylan," he said, trying not to let his anxiety show. "She's not involved in this."

The bully cocked his head to the side, staring at Irving intently. "Oh, but I would disagree with you there, Irv. She _is_, and I would like to know how she knew what was going on."

The crowd was whispering amongst themselves, trying to dissect the situation, and Irving again took a quick look around to try to see anyone that he knew that could help. Seeing no one step forward, he shook his head slightly.

Yep, most definitely going to regret this.

"It was me, OK?"

Now he had everyone's undivided attention.

Dylan's face warped into an expression of triumph. "That's what I thought. So you _did_ tattle on me. I didn't think you had the guts."

"I did, but I didn't ask her to go find you or anything. I was just frustrated." He exhaled, holding his arm to his side to avoid it noticeably shaking. "Look, just come with me, and you and I can talk about this somewhere else. No need to make a scene here when we don't have to."

The bully tilted his head, lost in thought. After a moment, he slowly nodded. "You're right, Irv. No need to raise a hoopla over a little misunderstanding. I'll just put this here..." He opened the locker door, ready to deposit the wiggling Katie inside. "And then we'll be on our way."

"Dude!" Irving, without a second thought, grabbed Dylan by his free arm. "You don't have to do that. Just let her go."

Scoffing, Dylan shoved him away. "I would _love_ to do that, Little Irv, but I have a reputation to uphold. Surely you understand my obligations to make sure people know their place."

Had the rational part of his mind been in control, Irving would have gone along with everything, leaving Katie to fend for herself. But seeing her about to enjoy a stay in the locker, especially after what she had done to help him, brought forth a side he had never been aware of. He re-grabbed Dylan's arm, a little firmer this time.

"Let. Her. Go."

Dylan narrowed his eyes, stopping in his tracks. "Well, _this _is a surprise. Didn't know you had it in you, Irv." He glanced at Katie, who seemed detached from the argument. "I also didn't know you had a crush on Blondie here."

Irving couldn't help but flush at his statement. "It's not like that."

"Really? Well I guess we'll soon see about tha—OW!"

Turns out that Katie wasn't really helpless after all.

A swift kick to the knee interrupted his proclamation, causing him to let go of Katie in a hurry. The blonde nimbly landed on her feet, holding out her hand to catch the book of papers from Dylan's other hand.

"Thanks for the save, Irving," she said, grinning at him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I have a report that I need to finish. And everyone needs to head off to class!" she added to the crowd, who had been transfixed by the showdown. "I would rather not have to give out late slips to-"

Her words were cut short when all of a sudden, Dylan grabbed her by the shirt and rammed her into the wall. His foot went careening into her shin in an attempt to pin her legs down.

Irving always knew that there was a line that bullies were to never go over. Buford had informed him (as well as Baljeet) of this on a slow day at school. Bullies, as per the code, were to never cause major, severe, or permanent harm to their nerds, or to anyone else for that matter. It was somewhat of a backwards way of thinking about things, but Buford had said that as weird as that rule may have been, he knew that he would never approach that line with Baljeet.

But from the loud cracking sound that emanated from Katie's leg, that line has unmistakeably just been crossed.

Katie let out a yelp of pain, tears beginning to well out of her eyes. Dylan paid no heed to her, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint.

"You little _bitch_."

Maybe it was the curse word that set him off. Maybe it was seeing Katie in an incredible amount of pain. Maybe he was just fed up with everything. Whatever the case was, Irving found himself stepping forward, shoving Dylan out of the way. The bully, not seeing this, stumbled to the side, almost landing on his butt. Katie crumbled into a heap on the ground, her tears now freefalling.

"Are you all right, Katie?" Irving asked, getting on his knees to look at her. He immediately regretted asking this, because one look at her face answered his question. The crowd, in the meantime, recognized what was going down and instantly began to disperse; no one wanted to get caught being a bystander to a fight going on in the hallways.

"C'mon, we need to get you to the nurse's office." He tried to help her up, but a sudden yank on his shirt sent him careening in the opposite direction. Dylan had collected himself and had grabbed him. Irving found himself staring at his furious face, all sense of self-control lost. He did not register Katie's desperate "Irving!" call. Not that it would have helped any.

"Oh, you are not going _anywhere_, Irv. Not until I'm done with you."

He angrily tossed Irving forward, into the same wall Katie had been pinned on. Irving felt his back connect with the combination lock, sending a sharp pain down his spine.

And then his head smacked hard against the metal locker.

And then everything went black.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>All righty.

This...was hard to write. I've been bullied a lot. I know what it's like to feel helpless and at the mercy of someone else. It is _not_ a pleasant place to be.

And people may bemoan me using a curse word here. C'mon now, you don't think kids that age know those words, much less use them? It's a sign of the times, I assure you. And it's suppose to punctuate the situation, kind of like Candace's "damn" in **A Call to Arms**.

This story, like I mentioned in the first chapter, will not stay with this sort of seriousness for its entirety. You'll find out what exactly happened to both Katie and Irving in the next chapter, and although that will still be of a serious tone, it won't be at the same level as this. Also, for those people who are wondering when other people are going to show up, several of the other characters will be appearing in Chapter 3. Won't say who exactly, though. That's for you to guess.

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


	3. Hello, Nurse

_**DISCLAIMER:** Everything about Phineas and Ferb is owned by the triumvirate of Dan, Jeff, and Disney. If you don't know what 'triumvirate' is, grab a dictionary.  
><em>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 3 - Hello, Nurse<strong>_

"_Can I try the stethoscope on him?"  
><em>

"_Buford, stop it."_

"_What? I just wanna use it."_

"_This isn't funny. He could still be seriously hurt."_

"_Which is __**why**__ I was gonna check his heartbeat."  
><em>

"_Ferb already did that, dude. We'll see how he is when he gets back."_

The voices sounded very muffled. It was as if Irving's brain couldn't properly translate them. He knew there were three distinct voices: two boys and a girl. He just couldn't tell who.

It would have been so much easier to just open his eyes, had it not been for the pounding headache that was now being fully realized. He groaned loudly in an attempt to subdue the pain, but to no avail.

"Hold on, I think he's waking up."

The words were becoming more clear, now that he was partially awake. He creaked his eyes open a bit, and saw the blurry outline of Buford's face right in his.

"Mornin', sunshine."

Irving groaned, rubbing his nose with his finger. "I'm not in the mood, Buford."

"_You're_ not in the mood? You wouldn't believe what _I_ had to go through tod—OW!"

A blurry fist went into the side of Buford, causing his outburst of pain. The red-headed blur shook his head. "You might want to lay off for now, Buford, or else Isabella's going to make sure you have a bruise there."

"Noted," the bully replied, handing Irving's glasses to him.

"Thanks." He put them on, and everything came back into focus.

He could see the rest of the room now. The lights weren't on, but the sunshine was creeping through the blinds in the solitary window. Various biology and health posters were on the walls, depicting things like skeletons and basic CPR instructions. A second, identical bed was on the wall to his left. Phineas and Buford were standing to the left of his bed, Isabella in a chair next to them. Her face seemed drained, her hands was covering her mouth, and her eyes kept darting in random directions.

"Are...you all right, Isabella?" Irving asked.

"She's a little out of it, dude," Phineas replied, tapping the mattress absentmindedly. "Things went pretty downhill for a while. I don't think I've ever seen her like this before. But she'll be fine. We're more worried about you."

"Well, besides my head, I feel fine. Luckily I was blessed with a pretty thick skull." Irving chuckled a bit.

"That's good to know. Ferb and Gretchen are due back any second; they'll check you out for anything that's lingering."

"Wait, why are they-"

Irving was cut off by the opening of the door, and the green-haired boy walked in, closely followed by Isabella's best friend, Gretchen. The both of them were dressed in long white medical coats. The former had a manila envelope tucked under his arm, and the latter had a clipboard full of charts and reports. Confused, Irving looked at Phineas.

"Nursing duties for a week, dude," the redhead said, answering his silent question.. "Everyone's gotta do them."

Irving glanced at Buford, not believing his ears, but the bully shrugged him off, apparently not aware of that fact either.

"Ahh, you're awake, Irving! That's good to see! Let me make sure that's on your chart..." Gretchen leafed through her clipboard of paper while Ferb began to put X-rays onto a lit display board. Irving could clearly see one of the skulls had a non-attached jaw to it.

"Holy cow, was my jaw dislocated?"

Gretchen looked up from her paper, glancing at the picture. "What? Oh! No." Sheepishly, she elbowed Ferb, who came to the same realization that she had. "That's...something different." Ferb took down the X-rays, stuffing them back into the folder. "That's for a class project. _Anywho..._"

She walked over to Irving, her clipboard at her side. "You had a pretty nasty contusion on the back of your head, Irving. Metal lockers will do that to you." She pulled a mini-flashlight out of her pocket and scanned both of Irving's eyes. Seemingly satisfied, she made a note on her clipboard. "Luckily it doesn't seem like it was _too_ bad; your ocular reflexes seems to be normal, and there aren't any injuries to your cornea. That's a good sign."

"Yeah, I have a killer headache right now," Irving stated.

"Not unexpected. We would've been more surprised if you didn't have one. I'll see if I can get you some aspirin."

Peering past Buford's shoulder, he saw the second bed on the far wall was unoccupied. It could have sworn that Katie would've been in it.

"Oh, did Katie get released? Where's she at?"

It was like all of the air had instantly been sucked out of the room. Gretchen looked down at her papers, uttering nothing. Phineas stared off in a random direction. Even Buford had grown unnaturally quiet. Irving turned to Isabella.

"_Where's Katie?_" he repeated, a little more forcefully this time.

The rest of the crowd followed his gaze to the Mexican-Jewish girl, whose mouth was still covered by her hand. Slowly, she lowered it, and began whispering.

"She...uh...she had to go to the hospital."

Irving's heart stopped.

"Dylan broke her leg."

His mind vaguely brought for the picture of Katie being pinned to the wall by Dylan, and the sudden crack he had heard when his boot made contact with her shin. That had to have been the cause of it.

"The...uh..." Isabella stopped, trying to collect herself. Thankfully, it was Phineas that continued onward.

"The paramedics came and took her away a while ago. There were going to take you too, but there was apparently some sort of mix-up when Mr. Humphries called them. He had heard that only Katie had gotten injured, so they didn't have enough room for the both of you."

"You had actually regained consciousness before they even arrived. You seemed fine, so they just gave you a quick check-up before they left. We kept you in here for observation and you went out of it again," Gretchen added. "You don't remember any of that?"

Irving shook his head. "No. None of that."

"Perhaps you got hit harder than we thought." She looked through her papers. "Maybe we should call them again and get you to the hospital."

"No, I'm...fine. Really." Irving rubbed the back of his head, feeling the lump where he had hit the locker.

There was going to be a nice bruise there for quite some time. "I think I just need to take it easy for a bit. It's probably for the best I don't remember what happened."

He couldn't help but feel terrible about Katie's condition. It was his fault that both of them were even in this predicament. The guilt must have shown on his face, because Phineas cleared his throat and spoke up again.

"It's not your fault, dude. Dylan's had it for a long time coming. The only reason he hadn't been punished was that no one was stepping up against him. Won't have to worry about that anymore, now will we?" he said with a smile.

"No, Mr. Flynn, we most certainly will not."

The kids turned their heads to see a tall, gray-haired man, his frame filling the doorway impeccably. He gave a slight tug onto his tie as he walked into the room, his eyes not leaving Irving's face. Phineas and the others fell quiet and stiffened to attention.

"Ms. Jenkins, if you be so kind," the man said, holding out his hand toward Gretchen. She wordlessly handed the chart to him.

"Thank you." His eyes scanned the paper, as if searching for something. After a moment, he handed the clipboard back to her, replacing his hands back behind his back. "How are you feeling, Mr. Stommeling?"

It wasn't every day that you got a personal visit from the principal of the school, so Irving had been thrown off since the man's arrival. He could only muster a prolonged "Uh...", and that seemed to make the man grin.

"Are you sure that he is alright, Ms. Jenkins?" he said, peering at Gretchen. "He appears to be a little out of it."

"Well, he just woke up a few minutes ago, sir. And apparently he doesn't remember anything after he fell unconscious in the hallway."

Mr. Humphries frowned, turning his attention back to Irving. "Is this true, Mr. Stommeling?"

Irving nodded his assent.

"Have you filled him in on the details, Mr. Flynn?"

"Some of them, sir," Phineas replied. "We were just in the middle of doing that."

The principal mirrored Irving's action. "If you do not mind, Mr. Flynn, I would prefer to take it from here."

"Of course, sir."

Mr. Humphries took a deep breath, his gaze wondering to everyone in the room. "First of all," he started, "I would like to apologize to everyone on a couple of matters. If I had known that Dylan had been doing things to the severity that he was, I would have done something about him a long time ago. However, I can only be in so many places at once, as well as the teachers. We will work harder to assure that nothing like this happens again.

"I would also like to apologize to you specifically, Mr. Stommeling. The chain of information that had been passed down to me was, regrettably, incorrect. I had only heard about Ms. Brooke's injuries, and by the time yours had been made aware, you appeared to have been fine. If I had know you would relapse, I would have called an ambulance for you as well."

"Sir," Irving interrupted, "What about Katie?"

Mr. Humphries raised an eyebrow, and Irving thought he had crossed a line. However, it seemed that the principal was amused about something, because a small smirk appeared on his face. "Your concern is noted, Mr. Stommeling. However, I ask that you let me finish. I promise to get to her soon enough."

He had so many more questions to ask him, but Irving thought better of it, and settled back down into the bed.

"About the incident," the principal continued, as if he had not been interrupted at all, "The first staff member appeared on the scene shortly after you had been attacked. He got there to see that Mr. Van Stomm here (motioning to Buford) had...'detained' Dylan." He put up his finger quotes for emphasis. "Personally, the half-nelson was not entirely necessary, but I don't think Dylan planned on cooperating with anyone at that point.

"I had arrived on the scene myself after the staff had a chance to restore order. You were being attended to by Ms. Hirano, and Ms. Brooke was being helped by Mr. Patel. He was able to secure her leg so to avoid any more injury to it before the paramedics arrived. You were conscious and alert, so I had made the decision to not send you with Ms. Brooke to the hospital. We then transported you here, where you appeared to had fallen unconscious for a second time. I was just checking to see whether I would have to call the ambulance again, but I see that won't be necessary. And it _also_ seems," he concluded, motioning to the group of kids in the room, "that your friends were awfully worried about your condition. So much, in fact, that they decided to skip class in their haste to check up on you."

Irving blushed furiously. He hadn't known the group had done all of that. It made me smile to know that they had gone out of their way to see if he was all right.

"Yeah...about the whole detainin' thing..." Buford said, stepping forward. "I was just trying to stop him. He was going off on everyone else after he was done with Fanboy."

"I am perfectly aware of that, Mr. Van Stomm," Mr. Humphries retorted. "Had you not appeared, the situation could have gotten much worse. I don't have any plans to punish you for your actions."

The opening sounds of "Gitchie Gitchie Goo" interrupted the conversation, the words coming from the principal's pocket. He rolled his eyes, pulling the phone out of his hand.

"I tell the staff to keep their phones on silent, and irony just happens to strike down from the heavens. Lucky me. Pardon me for a moment." He put the phone up to his ear. "Hello? Oh, Naomi! How are you doing?"

Irving could only catch his side of the conversation, and it didn't help him discern any of what the subject was. For a minute, all he said was "Mmhmm" and "Yes". He glanced at Isabella, who had not moved during the entire exchange. She still appeared to be dumbstruck by the day's events.

"He's fine as well." Irving's ears perked up at his statement. "We had a slight scare earlier, but everything appears to have sorted out. You can pass that along."

He looked down the line from Phineas to Gretchen, who all shrugged at his unspoken question. They had no idea about the conversation either.

"Thank you for keeping me in the loop, Naomi," Mr. Humphries said, pacing back toward the bed. " I will go ahead and inform them now. Please send her my regards. Thank you."

He closed his phone, his full attention now back on the group. "That was Dr. Hirano. Ms. Brooke is going to be fine. She's getting her cast set up right now, and she is in good spirits, albeit a little distressed by her current situation."

Irving felt a huge weight lift off of his mind. He inwardly sighed, knowing that _that_ part of his brain could rest easier.

"She was also terribly worried about you as well, Mr. Stommeling," the principal said, inclining his head toward Irving. "So much so, in fact, that it took quite a bit to calm her down, according to Dr. Hirano. She can probably be comforted by the fact that you are all right."

Irving felt his blush go even further, and even though no one commented on it, he prayed that it would stay that way.

And then he remembered something.

"Sir, has anyone called my mom?"

Mr. Humphries' demeanor shifted as his gaze went to the window. "I spoke to her personally several minutes ago to update your condition. She works downtown, if I remember correctly? It should take her just a little more time to-"

A sudden screech from outside halted his sentence. The group turned their heads to the window as Mr. Humphries walked over to it. He peered through the blinds, and then widened his eyes.

"Never mind. Your mother has arrived."

Irving craned his neck to look through the opening. He could clearly see his mom getting out of her car, purse to her side, and a very agitated look on her face. One of the counselors was trying to talk to her, but it looked like she wasn't having any of it.

"Ahh, and now for the fun part of the job. Dealing with emotional parents. No offense, Mr. Stommeling."

"None taken, sir," Irving replied. "She can be a little...animated."

The principal straightened up and turned to the group. "I will go ahead and attempt to calm her down a little bit. We probably do not need another ruckus made in the hallways again. I am going to ask the rest of you to please vacate this room so that Mr. Stommeling can have a little bit of time to himself. You probably do not want to be anywhere near his mother in her current emotional state."

He looked at Phineas and Buford. "It would probably be best for the both of you to return to class. I will give you both passes to give to your teachers. There are no doubt wondering where the both of you are."

He then turned to Isabella. "You obviously want to see Ms. Brooke, as she is part of your troop. I will go ahead and set up arrangements for you and Ms. Jenkins to go to the hospital. If you want to scrounge up Ms. Sweetwater, Ms. Hirano, Ms. Buchanan, and Ms. Jackson (glancing at Gretchen), that would be fine."

"Of course, sir. I'll do that," Gretchen answered, nodding her head. Isabella did not respond.

"Mr. Fletcher..." Mr. Humphries, focusing on the last person. "Please finish the medical report and have it on my desk by the end of the day. I want to make sure that there is a copy of it on record."

Ferb gave a silent thumb-up, a sign of his confirmation.

"Very well," he concluded, looking at his watch. "Everyone meet in my office in...let's say five minutes. I will sort out everything there. In the meantime, let's give Mr. Stommeling some quiet time."

The group made their way toward the door, being trailed by the principal. Irving looked down at the covers, going over the whirlwind of events that had transpired. It seemed like just a short time ago that he was worried over missing class and being at the wrath of Dylan.

Wait a minute.

"Sir!"

Mr. Humphries stopped in the doorway, turning back into the room. "Yes?"

"What happened to Dylan?"

Irving could see that this was a point that the principal had been trying to avoid. He peered over his glasses at him, as if deciding whether to tell him or not. He sighed, then straightened his stance.

"Dylan was escorted off of the grounds by police, who arrived at the same time as the paramedics. From what Mr. Van Stomm told me earlier, he was not being very reasonable with anyone, much less the officers. He is currently being held at the station, waiting to be released to the custody of his parents."

Irving opened his mouth again, but the principal cut him off.

"He is also, effective immediately, no longer a student at this school."

Irving closed his mouth, his question answered.

"I will have to speak with you at some point on your recollections of what exactly happened before your injuries, but that can wait. You need to recover, and I don't believe you're going to get that here. Go home. Get some rest. Our talk can wait until you return to school."

He nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"Ms. Garcia-Shapiro, if you would come with me."

Irving, to his great surprise, realized that Isabella had not moved at all during the principal's talk. She still had her head in her hands, although the color was coming back to her face. She looked up and spoke to Mr. Humphries.

"Can I...talk to Irving for a second? Alone?"

He looked from the girl to Irving, then back to her. "Do you object, Mr. Stommeling?"

"No," he replied, although right now he was wishing he had said the opposite.

"All right then," he said, looking back down the hallway. "You may have a moment. However, I would advise you not taking too long. I don't believe my secretary can calm your mother down any more, and who knows how much I'm going to be able to do? I shall see you both momentarily." With a final nod, he was off, closing the door behind him.

Irving now felt very uneasy being alone with Isabella. She had been nothing like her usual self since he had woke up, and all of that discomfort was settling in. She was Katie's troop leader after all; no doubt she felt some sort of responsibility for what happened to her and distraught for her injuries.

He looked at her face, and recoiled when he saw her staring back at him. The look wasn't angry, or even aggravated; it was more inquisitive than anything. Feeling like he needed to break the ice, Irving started talking.

"Look, Isabella, I feel really bad about what happened to Katie. I didn't-"

The Mexican-Jewish girl held up her hand, motioning him to stop, and he fell silent. He had learned quickly that it wasn't very smart to mess with the troop leader on any regard, much less interrupt her. If she didn't say anything soon, though, his mom was going to barge in at any-

"She's vouched for you, you know."

"Hmm?" Irving didn't understand.

"Katie's the one who's been supportive of you this entire time," Isabella muttered. "Even when everyone else said to just forget about you because of your...personality. Not even Phineas was that adamant." She looked away from him, her eyes narrowing in sadness. "Even I've had a few reservations about you in the past."

"I am a little over-the-top when it comes to things, yeah," Irving said, rubbing his head. "I've been working on that."

"I know you have. Katie's been telling me about it."

"Wait, she's what?"

"Katie's been worried about you for a little bit," Isabella said. "She's been doing little things, like checking in on you to make sure you're all right. She had a feeling you needed some cheering up recently. Even brought it up at the last Fireside Girl meeting."

"Oh man." Irving drooped his head. "That makes me feel worse."

"Why is that? Why do you feel bad about it?"

"You want to know why?" Irving went into his pocket and pulled out his slip. "Katie gave this to me when we were in the hallway. She wanted me to report Dylan. And I was _going_ to. And then she saw him in the hallway and..."

He trailed off, trying hard to calm himself down. "I feel responsible about everything. If I hadn't told her about Dylan, I feel like none of this would've happened."

"And if you hadn't stood up for her, she was going to have a whole lot worse than just a broken leg," she replied firmly.

"She wouldn't _have _a broken leg right now if I had just shut up!"

"You have no idea if that would've happened or not. For all you know, Dylan was on the edge anyway. I've seen him when he's at his worst. If Katie had been on that end..." Isabella paused slightly. "I don't even want to think about that."

Irving said nothing, trying not to think about that possibility either.

"She stood up for you, Irving. And you stood up for her. And I'm glad that you were there."

She paused, and got up from her chair. Without any warning, she hugged his neck, and Irving felt the blush come up his cheeks again.

"And I'm glad that you're OK."

He awkwardly put his arm around her. "She's going to be OK too. It'll just take a little time."

She leaned back, her cheeks slightly pink. "I know. It's just hard when you have friends in this sort of situation."

"You...consider me a friend?"

"Don't be stupid, Irving; of course I do," she replied. "We all do. Phineas, Ferb, me, Buford, everyone. Don't ever think otherwise. You can be a little eccentric sometimes, but we all have our little quirks about us. We've gotten used to it."

He looked away. It was nice that everyone didn't feel any weirdness when it came to him; that was the last thing that he had ever wanted anyone to feel.

"Look, I better get going." Isabella glanced toward the door. "Gretchen's probably gotten everyone else by now and waiting on me. We'll fill Katie in on what happened. Don't worry about it. Just get better." She started off toward the exit.

"Can you do something for me, Isabella?"

She stopped mid-stride. "Sure, what is it?"

"Can you..." He paused, not sure as to what exactly to say. He found it sort of awkward talking to her troop leader about one of her members, but he couldn't see any other alternative.

"Can you...tell her thanks for her support? And that I'm glad she's OK? And I'm sorry for what happened?"

Isabella turned toward him, her face unreadable. "No. I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm not going to tell her." She pulled a pen out of nowhere and started writing on a stray piece of paper. "You are going to go to her house," she said, "and you are going to tell her yourself. There's her address," she finished, handing the paper to him.

"Wha-"

"Trust me, Irving. She needs to talk to you just as much as you need to talk to her. I'm doing both of you a favor. You'll thank me later."

"Isabella," he started, trying to wrap his head around what was happening, "I don't even know what I'm going to say to her."

"She doesn't know either, Irving," Isabella retorted, hands on her hips. "Why do you think she hasn't _told_ you about any of what I just said? She's too scared to. This way, both of you can just lay it out there. You can say your spiel to her about what happened and your feelings about it, and she can tell you her...feelings as well. "

The last part had been oddly punctuated, so Irving couldn't help but be a little curious about her choice of words. "What feelings?"

Isabella walked over to the door, at first not acknowledging his question. Opening it, she turned back, a small smile apparent on her face. "Talk to her, Irving. It will be a whole lot better coming from her than me."

She left the room, and for the second time that day, he was left with nothing but a paper in his hand and a list of questions on his mind.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE (apologies for the length):<strong> I know I'm somewhat on the outside when it comes to Irving and his usefulness in fanon works (and by somewhat, I mean I _am_). Most people don't really regard him as an important character, or one that's only good for a background laugh or two. This story, however, brings him into the spotlight, and to me deservedly so. I am of the thinking that he has a relevant spot in good stories. He just needs to be written well.

And I also think it's important for him to actually _be_ friends with the rest of the gang rather than him be the weird, overly-exuberant kid that the group just tolerates like in the show. People grow. People change. It should be natural for Irving to be more integrated into the circle of friends, and you're even beginning to see that in the show. Just compare the Irving when he was first introduced to the one now. It's a world apart.

A couple of minor things, then I'll shut up: The principal, Mr. Humphries, was originally not going to appear in this chapter. But, the more I wrote, the more I realized that mentioning him in the first two chapters would have to warrant an appearance by him here. Plus...phone humor.

Some people may object to me not going a little bit further as regards to Dylan and his punishment, but in the end, this story isn't really about him. It's about Irving (and Katie). And like real life, it's best not to reminisce too much about bullies, because getting caught up thinking about them is exactly what they want. It would be wise not to give them any more ego-stroking attention then they already possess.

Last thing, I swear. Irving has no given last name (or Gretchen or any other FS Girl for that matter sans Adyson), so I gave him the one he was rumored to have. I think it rather suits him.

I have not decided on whether the next chapter will be the last, or whether I will split off the end of it into an entirely new chapter. It will depend on how much I have to rewrite, because (Trivia Alert!) parts of the next chapter were actually the first things I wrote for this story. I have some special surprises in store for Chapter 4, including some actual Katie/Irving (because everyone was clamoring for it */sarcasm*) and awkwardness up the wazoo. Gotta love it.

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


	4. The New Chapter

_**DISCLAIMER: **All characters of Phineas and Ferb are owned by Dan, Jeff, and Disney. Not Larry, Moe, and Curly._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 4 - The New Chapter<strong>_

Irving's mother took him home not long after his talk with Phineas and the gang, leaving very little time for him to digest the events of the day. He still felt very unsettled for getting Katie hurt, but Isabella had tried her best to make him feel like he hadn't do anything wrong.

"Tried", of course, being the operative word.

Perhaps this was why he was on his bike the next afternoon, with a nervous feeling in his chest. He certainly didn't _have_ to do this, but he felt an obligation to do it. After all, if it was not for him, Katie wouldn't have gotten in this mess.

Irving double-checked his paper again, turning down another busy street. He had gotten directions online using the address that Isabella had given him. After explaining where he was going to his mother, he had biked out of the garage, not wanting to waste a moment of time.

After only a few minutes, he braked to a halt in front of her house. He was surprised at how _close_ she lived to him. It was only a few blocks away, the white house sticking out amongst the yellows and browns of this section of Danville. He made his way through the gate in the picket fence, careful not to leave his bike on the sidewalk.

Irving approached the front door, anxious as ever. The sensibility that he had left back at his house was now catching up, leaving him on edge. Not knowing what he was about to get himself into, he pressed his finger to the doorbell, hearing the ring reverberate. He stepped back, hands held behind him.

Ten seconds passed.

Then twenty.

Perhaps he didn't think this through enough. How long did a broken leg require someone to be at the hospital for? He wasn't even sure if she was home, let alone her parents. Perhaps he should give Isabella a call. She would certainly know, being the troop leader and all.

Irving turned to walk off the porch, getting ready to pull his phone out of his backpack, when the front door suddenly opened to reveal a young woman. She was wearing a blue and yellow sundress, and her hair was tied back into one, shoulder-length ponytail.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Irving cleared his throat, his nervousness rising again. "Uhh...yes. My name is Irving. I'm one of Katie's friends from school. I was just...stopping by to see how she was doing."

The woman blinked, and then a smile grew upon her face. "Ohhh! _You're_ Irving!"

"...Pardon?"

"Katie's told me so much about you! I didn't realize you would be here so soon!"

Irving was sure his mouth was hung open in shock, but he was too dumbstruck to do anything about it.

The woman giggled, humored by Irving's demeanor. "Where are my manners? Come in, come in." She waved her hand, opening the door enough for him to enter.

The first thing he noticed about the house what that it was very...beachy. The foyer area was very white, with the stairs leading upstairs ahead of him white as well. Irving took note in the pair of crocs that inhabited the corner, no doubt belonging to Katie. There were various family pictures of the beach and ocean strewn along the walls.

Katie's mom led him to the living room on the right, where these walls were a very light blue. The white leather couch and rattan surrounded the glass-covered coffee table, a basket of orange flowers Irving did not recognize resting on top. Through the doorway to the left he could see the kitchen, the light yellows and blue accentuating the feel even more.

"You'll have to excuse me; I didn't realize we would be having company." Noticing Irving's bewilderment, she added, "You see, we just got home from the hospital a couple of hours ago. They wanted to keep Katie overnight, just for observation purposes. I must look a mess." She nervously smoothed out her dress.

"No, no, you look fine, ma'am," Irving said, positioning himself on the couch.

Katie's mom smiled. "How sweet of you. Let me see if Slater's still up in Katie's room." She walked over to the stairs, cupping her hands over her mouth.

"SLATER, HONEY! CAN YOU BRING KATIE DOWN HERE FOR A MINUTE? SHE HAS A VISITOR!"

Irving might have been able to hear the muffled reply from the second floor if it had been not for his eardrums being ruptured by the sheer volume of her voice. Walking back into the room, Katie's mom saw Irving shaking the cobwebs out of his head and winced. "Sorry, that may have been a little loud."

He still had a finger in his ear, making sure blood wasn't coming out of it. "Well, at least I know where Katie gets it from."

"Yes," the young woman laughed. "She sure can be vocal when she wants. Gets that trait from me." She took a seat next to Irving, twiddling her thumbs.

"I'm Kelly, by the way," she appended, extending a hand to Irving. "I don't get a lot of 'ma'am', as you've probably guessed."

Irving shook her hand, smiling. "I figured as much, ma-I mean, Mrs. Brooke."

Kelly looked back toward the stairs, eyes narrowing. "I wonder what's keeping my husband. I _know_ he heard me. Maybe he's dragging Katie out of bed. Although I can't really blame her for wanting to stay up there; she's gone through a lot over the past couple of days."

Irving only nodded, not wanting to intrude on her monologue.

"She told me what you did at school yesterday."

Irving stopped his head in mid-nod, grimacing slightly. "Oh yeah, she...told you about that."

"Yes, yes she did. We were having quite an animated discussion about it at the hospital. You were quite brave to stick up for her like that. From what the principal told me, that bully could have seriously hurt both of you. He said she was very lucky to not have much more than a broken leg."

Irving shuddered, not wanting to think about the "much more" part. "Well, I was just doing the right thing, Mrs. Brooke."

"At great personal risk of yourself, Irving. I'm glad you were there for my daughter."

Irving blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was nothing, Mrs. Brooke."

Katie's mom chuckled. "Smart _and_ modest. Now I know why Katie likes you so much."

"Wait, she what?"

"Ahh, there you are, Slater!" Kelly stood up, and Irving now saw a tall man carrying what seemed to be a pile of clothes on his shoulder. He was wearing a white shirt with orange Bermuda shorts, his flip-flops whacking the stairs with every step. Irving noted the immaculate tan that covered the entirety of his body.

"Sorry, honey; the little tyke didn't want to get out, so I have to hogtie her," the man said, his speech almost lost within his thick surfer accent.

"I have a name, Dad," the pile of clothes said.

Irving raised an eyebrow, now noticing the clothes on Slater's shoulder had feet and a tuft of blonde hair on the top of it.

"Sorry, munchkin. We only call each other our names for formal occasions. Everything else is nicknames."

Irving could almost feel Katie's eyes rolling in mock disdain. "Can you at least show me who's here to visit, Dad? Is it Milly?"

Slater rotated her on his shoulder, smiling. "Nope, not Milly. It's a boy."

"A boy? Who-IRVING!" Katie's face came into view, a astonished expression upon it. "What are you doing here?"

"He came to visit you, sweetie," Kelly replied. "Wasn't that nice of him?"

Irving saw Katie's face start to get red. Whether it was frustration or embarrassment he didn't know, and he probably did not _want_ to know.

"Honey," Kelly said, tearing Irving away from his thoughts, "Can you please not hold your daughter like a bag of dog food?"

"The doctor said for her to not put weight on her leg."

"Yes, well, carry her like a human being, and not like you're hauling a cooler off to the beach, Slater."

Katie let out a huge sigh. "Can someone set me down, _please_?"

"Oh, right." Slater walked over to the couch and sat her down next to Irving, her right leg straightened in a ankle-to-knee cast. "Now don't walk on it, missy. We haven't found a peg leg yet for your pirate costume, so don't mess up your cast."

"Thanks, Dad," Katie said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

Slater turned his attention to Irving. "So this must be the tyke Katie was talking about yesterday!" He held out a hand, which Irving took. "Gave them the ol' one-two, didn't ya?"

"Uhh, not really, Mr. Brooke-"

"Cha!" Slater interrupted. "Mr. Brooke is my father. Call me 'bro'."

"Honey," Kelly said, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "I don't think he should be calling you 'bro'."

"Hey, the cool English guy called me that!"

"That's because Mr. Fletcher was just doing it to be polite." Kelly grabbed her husband's arm, pulling him away from the kids. "We'll be upstairs, honey, if you need anything."

"Thanks, Mom," Katie said.

After her parents made their way up the stairs, Irving stole a glance at Katie, who was trying to fix her hair. It was not in her normal two-braid format; it hung loose, all of it coming down to her shoulders. Her blue pajamas were not anything unusual, but it was weird for Irving to see her in anything but her Fireside Girl uniform. A tinge of pink was still on her cheeks, which he found very...pretty on her.

Trying to bottle the butterflies that were in his stomach, he tried to make his voice sound normal. "Sooo...those were your parents."

Katie raised an eyebrow at Irving, still trying to flatten her hair. "Yeah. I'm sorry about that; my mom's a little excitable, and Dad is...well, you saw him. He's using this whole thing as a comedy platform."

Irving smiled, glad to see she was taking it all in stride. "How long do you have to have the cast on?"

Katie sighed. "At least a month. Then I'll have to go back to the doctor to see if it's healed enough." She leaned back on the couch, exasperated. "It's going to be so annoying."

"Well, look on the bright side. It could have been a whole lot worse."

Katie turned her eyes on him, a indiscernible look in them. "Yeah. It could have. But it wasn't."

This was the point that Irving was dreading, the part where he would have to talk to her about what exactly had transpired yesterday. "Katie-"

"Irving...stop." She held up a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Just...let me talk, OK?"

He nodded. He crossed his legs underneath him, nervously waiting for Katie to start.

"I'm sorry."

Irving narrowed his eyes, not believing what he was hearing. "Why are _you_ sorry? Last time I checked, I wasn't the one in a cast."

"I'm sorry because it was my fault that you got injured," Katie replied. "I saw what Dylan did to you, and he wouldn't have done anything if I had not gone out searching for him. I...let my emotions get the best of me. If I had just let you go to the office and file a report, nothing would have happened. You shouldn't be putting blame on yourself."

"Yeah, it's a little bit late for that," Irving retorted.

"Isabella told me that you felt bad about it when she visited."

"I still do. Hence the whole 'me-coming-here-to-apologize' part."

Katie stared at him, smiling. "We can fight about it if you want. I have to warn you, though, that you probably have a significant advantage over me, with my bum leg and all."

"I'm...not going to fight you, Katie."

"I thought you would say that. You'll be depriving Adyson of some entertainment. Not that I really care, anyway."

He heard scuffling from her direction and looked up to see her inch down the couch, her cast slowing things up immensely.

"Look, Irving, the point that I'm trying to make is that yes, perhaps we both did things that we shouldn't have done. But at least we both acknowledge it, and now we're both paying for it. You got a concussion; I got a broken leg. We'll be fine, though. Things heal." She put a hand on his shoulder. "You stuck up for me yesterday, and for that, I'm really grateful."

"Anyone could've done what I did, Katie," Irving said quietly.

"Yes, that's true," she agreed. "But no one did. I didn't see anyone else make an effort. Whether it was because they were scared or because they couldn't care less isn't important."

"Phineas and Ferb-"

"Weren't there," Katie interrupted. "They can't be in two places at once. No matter how much they try," she added.

"Well, what about-"

"The rest of the troop members were somewhere else, Irving. We can't patrol the entire school 100% of the time."

Irving racked his brain, trying to think of anyone, anyone else would have taken a smarter approach to the whole ordeal. The more he thought, the more his brain hurt.

"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. You reacted. It's instinct. You did the right thing."

He grinned sheepishly. "If you hadn't come along and gotten me out of my funk, I don't know what I would've done."

Katie gazed at him, her hand still on his shoulder. "I meant all of that, you know."

"What, the throwing me up against the wall, or what you said to me?"

"Well...at the time, both," Katie said, grimacing slightly. "I'm sorry for doing that, but I wasn't thinking too clearly at that moment. You were...frustrating me."

"Yeah, I do that sometimes." Irving suddenly remembered what Isabella had said to him the day before, something about Katie and her troop. "Although I may do that more often than I previously thought."

The blonde looked away. "Yeah, I told the troop that you may need some help, but they weren't having any of it. Initially, anyway. I did manage to convince Milly of that."

"But Katie...why did you go through all of that trouble?"

She looked back at him, and the eyes told him everything that he needed to know. With this, he knew her answer even before she said it.

"Because I like you, that's why."

He honestly wished that he could be more surprised at Katie's confession, but her actions at school and here, Isabella's chat, and her mom's hints were somewhat of a giveaway. This didn't hinder his simultaneous excitement and nervousness, however. There was something, on the other hand, that he didn't understand about it.

"I just have one question."

"What's that?" Katie asked.

"Why? Why me? I'm not that terrific of a person. I'm a huge nerd, I have issues-"

"We all have our issues, Irving. And as for nerdiness, I can tell you right now that the biggest nerd of all has someone crushing on him."

"Baljeet?"

"Yeah, and she's not exactly...quiet about it. At least, not to the troop, anyway."

Katie paused, and Irving saw that her green eyes were searching for the right words to say.

"I think you're a cool person, Irving. You're smart. You're a good guy at heart. You've hung out with and helped Phineas and Ferb a few times, and you know how many of the people at school would _kill_ to hang out with them for an afternoon?"

"Well, shouldn't they be the ones you like, then?" Irving asked.

Katie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Please. Everyone knows Phineas is already 'taken' (she pantomimed quotes for emphasis) by Isabella, and Ferb...Ferb's cool and all, but he's a little too quiet for me. I prefer someone who speaks their mind, who can work with the best of them, who can dismantle fifteen spy cameras in as many seconds."

Irving smiled, recalling the day that he helped the stepbrothers build a landmark for the city of Danville and foiled the combined busting attempts of their sister and his brother.

"Most of all, someone who's not afraid to stick up for me, even when it scares the crap out of them. Someone who would willingly put their own well-being ahead of someone else. That's the person I'm looking for."

He blushed, not wanting to look into Katie's eyes. He wasn't sure whether he could handle all of this or not.

"And yes, you may be a little..._nerdy_," she added, jokingly elbowing him in his side, "but some people like those qualities. I certainly do."

Irving didn't really know what to say to her. He didn't know where to begin. All of this information was threatening to overtake his mind. Had he not been tipped off earlier, it would have done so already.

"And I haven't even gotten to the most important reason."

"Hmm?"

"Believe it or not, Irving," Katie said, eyes glancing down into the couch, "...I kind of know what you're going through."

Now this was interesting.

"I wasn't aware that you had a pair of superstar inventors that you dedicated a fan website to."

"No, not...that." She waved his notion off with her hand. "I just...I know what it's like to be one of those kids that gets ignored and picked on."

Katie leaned back into the couch. Irving turned to face her, his curiosity piqued.

"I was the new kid here for a while. I moved here last year, and it took a bit of time for me to get used to things. Back in Hawaii, everyone knows each other. Neighbors are family. The kids you play with are the same ones you see every day. Danville doesn't have it to that degree."

"Hawaii?" Irving tilted his head. "I didn't know you came from there."

"Yeah, it's a great place to grow up, and it was sad for me to leave it behind to come here. It's so beautiful there: oceans as far as you can see, great weather, the works. It's literally paradise.

He must have had a concerned look on his face, because Katie quickly backtracked. "Don't get me wrong; I love it here, and I wouldn't change the experience for anything. But...there's something that this town just doesn't have. Everything seems...simpler there."

Leaning forward, she plucked one of the orange flowers out of the vase, rolling the stem in between her fingers. Just having it in her hands seemed to take her mind back to her former life.

"Do you know what this is, Irving?" she asked, tapping on the bulb of the flower. Irving shook his head in response.

"It's called a bird-of-paradise. It represents magnificence, liberty. Only really thrives in warm climates. Not really the best flower to be trying to grow in Danville. My mom has them delivered here personally from our florist in Hawaii."

She scanned the room, scoping the walls with her eyes. "Mom tries to make the house seem like our old house, with the colors and the flowers and what not. She knows that I miss it a lot, so she tries to make it just like back home."

Katie sniffed the flower, the scent strong enough for even Irving to pick up on. "I guess the point that I'm trying to make is that everyone needs a fresh start at some point. I had mine a year ago, and even though I didn't think it would end well, it has for the most part. Yes, nothing can ever really replace my old home, but there's a lot of good things here to look forward to."

She looked straight into Irving's eyes, and he could feel the confidence boring into him. "And the same thing goes for you. I was just trying to give you a fresh start. No, I don't know what it's like to live your life, but you have good things going on now. Just...don't forget that, OK?"

Irving sat silently, taking in all of her words. It had been very enlightening to hear her talk about her past, and things had become much clearer to him. Her words had made him feel very special and happy, something that he had not been accustomed to in the past few days.

"Two people," he whispered out loud. "Just looking for their place. For their new start."

Katie nodded quietly.

They sat for a moment, engaging in their silent musings. Irving looked from Katie to the flower, still in her hand. "Can I see..."

"Oh, sure." She handed it to him, the bright orange even more vibrant now that it was in his possession.

"You said that it symbolizes magnificence?"

"Yeah," Katie replied. She looked away, staring off out the back door. "Seems a little silly, right?"

"No, I don't think it's silly at all."

"You don't?"

"Of course not." Irving picked off some of the stem, leaving only a tiny bit of it left on the bulb. As gingerly as he could, he tucked it behind her left ear.

"Because I think you're pretty magnificent yourself."

Katie did not immediately acknowledge his gesture, although that didn't stop the immense amount of heat from resonating from Irving's cheeks. Unlucky for him, it was also the very same moment that his mind decided to catch up to his body.

"Wow." He paused, his hand still hanging in the air. "I-I really have _no_ idea where that came from."

Her head turned back toward him, and he saw her cheeks had gone very pink. This did absolutely nothing to ease the burning sensation on his face.

"That means a lot, Irving. Thank you."

Her stare was entrancing. The silence was deafening. All of the nouns were awkwardly verbing, and Irving needed to cut in, if only to check to see if his voice was working properly.

"I should probably get going. Phineas and Ferb are building a giant ball pit, and I offered to help with the schematics."

"You offered, or are you going to just show up?"

Irving winced, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I'm _going_ to show up. I just figured I would think of some way to help them in case they ask."

Katie shook her head slightly, her smile all the more evident. "Oh Irving...what am I going to do with you?"

"Nothing, since you have a bum leg."

They laughed together, a moment shared between the two that made Irving appreciate her even more. It was amazing how just two days ago he was in a funk, with nothing good on the horizon. Now he was happy, with...well...whatever Katie was to him. At the very least she was a worthy friend.

"There's just one more thing that I want you to do," Katie said.

She reached behind her back and pulled out a marker.

"I want you to sign my cast."

Irving smiled, taking it in his hand. "With pleasure." He bend down to gaze for a nice spot, but in all of the revelations and conversations, he had failed to notice the cast was completely mark-free. He looked up and saw Katie's grin grow even wider.

"Yup. You're the first one."

His smile matched hers. He knew exactly where he was going to put his words now.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> Holy crap balls, this took way too long.

I'm not...completely satisfied with this chapter. Some of the stuff in here does seem a little forced (at least to me), and some of the dialogue might be cleaned up. But it was either this or strangle myself with writer's block.

The beginning half of this chapter was the very first part that I wrote when I first envisioned this story. Obviously, the three previous chapters had a huge say with where this one was going to end up, and it was such a different place that it took me the longest time to rewrite and rework this.

But given all of that...I'm pretty pleased with where I ended up.

It was difficult to not give Katie an easy reason for liking Irving, like being the damsel in distress earlier in the story. So I delved into my fan-made background a little bit, and tried to put some similar things to Irving in that past. It's not exactly apples to apples, but I think they're both relatable when it comes to things they've had to deal with. I hope that everyone who reads this likes those reasons (or at the very least is happy I didn't take the easy way out).

Oh yeah, and obvious surfer reference is obvious.

The _good_ news is that since there are more things that I need to wrap up in this story, you guys will be getting another chapter. You see, this is where the story was _suppose_ to end. But loose ends need to be tied, and one more little twist needs to be added to give this story a nice surprise for the end. And I promise that the next chapter will not take the better part of two months to complete.

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


	5. The Rapport Report

_**Disclaimer: ** All characters of Phineas and Ferb are the property of Dan, Jeff, and Disney._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 5 – The Rapport Report<strong>_

The weekend came and went in a flash, and while Irving kept himself busy with his fansite and a couple of Phineas and Ferb's projects, he found his mind drifting back to one thing: Katie. She had certainly given him a lot to think about, and his activities on Saturday and Sunday did nothing to alleviate said brain.

She was not the only reason, however. Part of it was, ironically enough, the P&F fansite itself. Most of the student body knew that Irving ran the site, but understandably ignored it. Now, there was so much traffic wondering about what happened during that day that the forum server almost crashed. There were so many questions asked, from legitimate ones to whether he had really fallen unconscious to outrageous ones like what judo technique he had used on Dylan.

It was almost a relief to be back at school on Monday, away from his computer, but Irving was expecting for a throng of students to greet him at the front with more questions. He had always dreamed to be one of the popular kids. Just not necessarily like this...

He walked into the front doors of the school, a nervous knot in his stomach. There were only a few kinds hanging around in the foyer, none of which were beating down the door to ask him about the altercation. That was certainly a good sign...

"Yo, Fanboy!"

Irving turned to see Buford and Baljeet walking toward him, the latter grimacing with every step.

"Hey, Buford." The bespectacled boy looked at his fellow nerd, an eyebrow raised. "Are...you OK, Baljeet?"

"I am fine," he replied. "My mother thought it would be a wonderful idea for me to learn how to ride a horse over the weekend. I do not think I will be able to walk straight for an entire week."

"Well, instead of voting 'yay' for that, you shoulda voted 'neigh'."

Baljeet stared at his bully and sighed. "Buford, what did I tell you about making puns this early in the week?"

"That they're not a good idea, neva' been a good idea, and neva' will be a good idea."

"And yet you did it anyway. So just for that..." Baljeet pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it to Buford, who immediately read the fine print.

"No wedgies for the week?" Buford exclaimed. "Aw man! How come ya ruining my fun?"

"I am not 'ruining' anyone's fun. I told you that you should have retained a lawyer if you were hesitant about anything," Baljeet explained. "In any case, were you not going to tell Irving something?"

"Oh yeah, right." The bully turned back to Irving, ending the brief argument against the Indian boy. "Mr. Humphries said he wants you in his office before class starts."

Irving nodded. "Yeah, he probably wants to talk to me about the fight. Do you think I have to talk to the police?"

"That may very well be likely, Irving. Incidents like these are not taken very lightly."

He nodded as he rustled his backpack. "I guess I should go there now." He turned to leave, but suddenly remembered something he had been meaning to tell the duo. "Listen, guys. I...never got to thank you two for last week. I really app-"

"Save it, Fanboy," Buford said, waving his hand. "Was nothing."

"I hardly count breaking up the fight and helping with Katie's leg nothing."

"You will have to thank Ginger for the latter part," Baljeet affirmed. "We had just finished our nursing training a week ago, and she was helping me in properly setting Katie's leg while taking care of you. Health care is regrettably not my strong suit, but Ginger was fortunately paying closer attention than I."

"Well, can you thank her when you see her today?"

"I think she already knows how much you appreciate her help, but I will pass it along all the same," Baljeet said with a nod of his head.

Irving looked at his watch. "I better get going to the principal's office and get this over with. I'll see you guys later." He quickly turned and headed off down the hallway, being waved off by Buford and Baljeet.

The Indian boy looked up at the bully, who appeared to be lost in thought about something. "Penny for your thoughts, Buford?"

"Something's up with Fanboy."

"He got knocked unconscious and saw Katie's leg get broken. You do not recall something else happening, right?"

"No, not that." Buford scratched the side of his head. "He seems a little...cheerful today. He was like that on Friday too. It's a little weird."

Baljeet sighed as he began to walk toward his first period class. "Something probably happened after the incident last week that he found particular enjoyment in, Buford. _Vishnu_forbid that he is actually allowed to be happy."

"Is that sarcasm I hear in ya voice?"

"Oh _no_, Buford," he replied, hobbling further down the hallway. "I would never _dream_of being sarcastic to you."

"...OK, I'm pretty sure _that_ was sarcasm."

* * *

><p>Irving had never been to the principal's office before under any circumstance, so he was definitely nervous. All he could think about was not stumbling and accidentally saying something incriminating. Not that he had anything incriminating to say, but still.<p>

After being led back by the secretary, he poked his head into the principal's office. There he was, sitting behind the desk, having a conversation with none other than-

"Katie!"

"Ahh, Mr. Stommeling! You've arrived. Come in and take a seat." He motioned to the empty chair next to Katie. Irving sat down next to her, cautiously glancing at Katie. She appeared to be in good spirits, her cast somewhat matching her white shirt and blue shorts. She had a new flower in her hair, a bright yellow one this time. Her crutches were leaning against the principal's desk.

"Ms. Brooke had decided to grace us with her presence today, albeit a little bit earlier than I expected," the principal said, stealing a look in Katie's direction. "But no matter. It's your injury, Ms. Brooke, and if you feel up to the task of school, I won't stand in your way. No pun intended."

He picked up a pencil from the desk, tapping it absentmindedly. "In any case, I just finished having Ms. Brooke tell me her recollections of the event last week. I want you to do the same for me. I have to send an incident report to the police with all of the people that were involved. They need documentation because they had to get involved, and it can't be completed without all of the participant's accounts."

Irving nodded, not saying a word.

"Anytime you are ready, Mr. Stommeling," Mr. Humphries said.

And so Irving began, detailing the entire day's account, starting from Katie's chance meeting with him in the hallway, leading up to him being thrown into the lockers by Dylan. For ten minutes he did nothing but talk. It felt somewhat alleviating to get the incident off of his chest, even if it was also painful to relive it again.

"Thank you, Mr. Stommeling." Mr. Humphires flourished his pencil as Irving finished. "I know that was difficult, but I appreciate your courage to tell me the story. The same goes to you, Ms. Brooke."

He took the papers and placed them in a manila envelope, sealing it with the adhesive. "Now, I have to give this to the police, so that they can figure out whether or not Dylan is going to get charged-"

"Charged?" Irving interrupted. "With what?"

Mr. Humphries looked over his glasses at the boy. "For starters, assault and battery on school grounds, which I heard comes with a pretty hefty penalty. Not to mention that he's been taking some pretty valuable things out of some students' lockers, from what some of the other kids have been telling me. That will also be taken into account for when your parents make a decision on whether to bring charges against him."

"But sir," Katie said, "What about us? Don't we get a say?"

"Since you two are not of age, the final verdict is up to your parents, not to you."

She glanced down for a split second, and Irving could tell she was looking at her broken leg. Her brow was crinkled in thought, but not knowing what she was thinking about was beginning to-

"If it means anything, Sir, I don't want him to get charged."

Irving whirled his head toward her, shocked. Mr. Humphries's demeanor did not falter, although his eyes did widen slightly.

"And why is that, Ms. Brooke?"

"...I just don't think it's worth it, Sir. He's already not going to be here anymore. I think that's enough for him."

The principal turned to Irving. "And what do you think, Mr. Stommeling?"

He paused, thinking about everything that had happened in the past few days, as well as Katie's longing look that she was giving him. Even though he knew what answer he _wanted_ to say, that answer wasn't going to come out. Not now.

"I don't think he should either, Sir. It's...not worth it. He's already not going to be back. I..." Irving glanced again at Katie, who gave him a slight smile. "I just want to move on."

Mr. Humphries looked at the two of them, his smile all the more evident. "Your parents have taught you very well in the art of humility. I'm sure they would be very proud of what you've told me."

He took the folder and set it aside on top of a pile of paperwork. "Very well. I will inform your parents of your opinion on the situation. Now, just keep in mind that again, the final decision will fall on them, but I'm sure they will undoubtedly take your thoughts into account."

"Now, there are two more things that I want to discuss with you, and then we can put this to an end. There is the whole matter of deciding what I need to do with you two."

"What do you mean, sir?" Irving asked.

"Well, you and Ms. Brooke were involved in an altercation on school grounds. I would not be doing my job if I did not see that punishment was doled out somehow."

Katie looked horrorstruck. "Sir, are you going to-"

"However," Mr. Humphries interrupted. "Based off of both of your accounts and the events that have transpired, I do not have plan to bring any disciplinary action against the two of you." Hearing the two loud sighs of relief the kids let out, he couldn't help but chuckle. "It is time that I display a little humility on my part. I think both of you have clearly been through enough, and there is no need to draw this out any further. Just...try not to take matters into your own hands, all right?"

Both Irving and Katie nodded.

"Good." The man pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed a number, bringing it to his ear. "Pardon me for one second." He tapped his finger on the desk for a moment, and then Irving heard a clouded voice on the other end.

"Yes, can I speak with Officer Garcia, please? Thank you."

He set the phone on his desk. "Officer Garcia is the person who's in charge of this case. I have to hand the report to him at some point today. In any case...we just have one final matter that needs to be settled."

Mr. Humphries turned his attention to Katie. "As you still need time for your leg to heal, I fear that getting around is not going to be easy. Therefore, you'll need a fellow student to help you along. Now, normally Ms. Garcia-Shapiro would want to do that job, but as she is currently on vacation right now and won't be returning for a couple of days, that designation would fall to me. And I believe I know just the person for _that_."

He turned his head toward Irving, who had a funny feeling he was going to suggest that. "Of course, Mr. Stommeling would have to agree to do so. I don't want to force the job onto him."

"N-no," Irving said, trying not to look directly at Katie. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

"Very well." The principal opened his drawer and pulled out a white and gold badge. "This is the Helper Badge; these are for the people who do these kinds of jobs for the other students. Helping them get around, carrying books for them and whatnot. Have this with you so that you don't get in trouble for being late to your classes." He handed it to Irving. "There are not a lot of people who get to use this, Mr. Stommeling; I suggest you put it to good use."

"Of course, sir," he replied, pinning it to his shirt.

"Now it would be best for you to get going to your classes. You will want to go to Ms. Brooke's locker first to get her things, Mr. Stommeling, and then be on your way."

Irving jumped down from his chair to help Katie off of hers. She grabbed her crutches, and together, they made their way out of the office.

"Oh, and one more thing."

They turned to their principal, who had his pencil in his hands again.

"If either of you two need anything, do not hesitate to let me know. When I said to you, Mr. Stommeling, that I don't want this to happen again, I meant it. If you get any grief or trouble, let a teacher know, and they will come to me."

Irving smiled at him. "Thank you, sir."

"Not a problem at all. Now if you excuse me, I have the report to finalize. I shall see the both of you around, I imagine."

Katie and Irving left the office, leaving Mr. Humphries lost in his thoughts. He sat silent for a moment, then his hand traveled over to his phone, pressing a button to take it off of the screensaver.

"Did you listen to all of that, Ms. Garcia-Shapiro?"

"_Loud and clear, sir," _the girl on the other line replied.

"I'm curious as to why you exactly wanted Mr. Stommeling to be Ms. Brooke's partner and not someone from your troop. Surely they would be more knowledgeable and qualified for that task."

"_They would be, yes," _she agreed. _"But...I don't know, sir. I just have a hunch about Irving. I think he's going to do just fine."_

The principal laughed softly. "Ms. Garcia-Shapiro, do you know something that I don't?"

"_I have no idea what you're talking about, sir."_

He shook his head, somewhat glad that the girl wasn't able to see him. "I defer to your judgment, Ms. Garcia-Shapiro. If you trust Mr. Stommeling, I will as well. How is your vacation coming along?"

"_Very well, sir. I haven't been in Florida for a while, and I have a lot of family that I haven't seen in years. It's been a great time."_

"Well, we all miss you here. I have some things to take care of today, so I'm going to let you go. Have a good rest of your trip, and I will see you back here in a few days time."

"_Have a good day, sir!"_

"You as well, Ms. Garcia-Shapiro."

He hung up the phone. Smiling to himself, he grabbed the pile of papers on his desk, getting ready to hand them off to his secretary. It was never a dull moment being the principal of this school, especially when he had such extraordinary students.

* * *

><p>"Do you need your history book?"<p>

"Yeah, grab that one too, please."

Irving reached inside again, grabbing the large history text. They were at Katie's locker now, Irving gathering the stuff for Katie.

"Do you think it's weird that he wants you to help me?" Katie asked. "Not that I mind at all, but I thought he would want Milly to help, since she has almost the same schedule as I do."

"Yeah, it's a little curious," Irving replied. "We probably shouldn't worry about it. At least you have someone, right?"

"True, true." Katie plucked the text from his hands, setting it in her pack. "That's everything. Let's go."

Irving shut the locker, and they set off toward Katie's first class.

"So, I haven't seen you since a few days ago," he started, "Can I talk to you about your cast?"

"Sure, what about it?" Katie glanced aside at him. "You regret writing it?"

"No, it's not that," Irving stopped, shuffling his backpack. "It's just...well..."

Katie glanced down at the cast, and right above her ankle were the words he had put down:

_**Thanks for everything. Go break a leg.**_

_**~Irving**_

"I didn't even think about it until today, but I think people might be a little...curious about it. Not to mention they might think I'm being mean."

Katie shrugged. "So? People have written weirder things. I already have a lot of people with things on my cast." She motioned to all of the other names on it, including Phineas and Ferb, as well as the rest of her troop. "They're probably going to notice Milly's 'speech' that practically running all the way down my leg before yours," she added, pointing to her best friend's lengthy addition.

"I guess you're right." Irving looked down at the curly-haired girl's words. "Good grief, I didn't realize how much she wrote until now. It's like she's not going to see you ever again."

"And besides, _I_ like what you wrote, and I know what you meant. That's all that matters," Katie affirmed, putting her foot back underneath her. "Don't worry about everyone else, either. I have the troop on it. People won't be bothering you."

"And how are they going to do that?"

"Have you ever tried to get between Adyson and something she knows she's going to get a patch for?"

"...Fair enough."

They continued on for a bit, Irving cursing how time could move so slowly sometimes. He hastily changed the subject.

"I see that you have a new flower."

"Yup." Katie absentmindedly touched it, sliding it deeper into her hair. "Mom just got this kind in yesterday. I figured it would be a nice thing to have for my first day back."

"I noticed something weird, though."

"What's that?"

"I was curious about the flower, so I went online and saw a bunch of pictures of it on all of these Hawaiian culture pages. A lot of people seem to wear some sort of flower in their hair."

"Yeah, me as well. That's not weird."

"True, but they all have them in their right ear. You have yours on your left."

Katie stopped mid-stride, her cheeks going slightly pink. "You didn't actually read those pages, I take it?"

"No..." Irving said slowly. "I was just looking at the pictures. Why, does it matter?"

"Well, yes. Having a flower in your right ear means that you're..."

The blonde girl paused. Irving saw that her neck was getting more dark by the second.

"You're what?"

"...It's suppose to signify that you're single and available."

Irving slapped his hand on his face. "Oh, OK. So if it's in your left ear, that means that-Oh."

Great. _Now_ he got it.

Katie saw Irving's surprised look grow on his face and immediately began to stammer off an explanation." Listen, I-I don't mean _that_ way. At least...not yet. We're way too young to even start moving in that direction yet. But...you know...why go around looking for someone who can be great for me for years and years when I...have someone right now who I _know_ is that?"

"Katie...I don't know what to say."

"Irving, you don't have to say anything. It's just...after everything that's happened in such a short amount of time, I may have gotten caught up in the moment. But I don't take back what I said. I do like you, and I don't care what anyone else is going to think about it."

He looked away, his blush creeping up again.

"We don't need anything figured out right now. The only thing we need to do is to get to class. I'm sure you don't want everyone wondering about what you're doing out here with me, right? Let's get through this together, just like last week. And then we'll go from there."

"...Thanks, Katie."

"No problem." She repositioned her crutches. "C'mon. We should get going."

Irving nodded. "Right. Let's go."

They resumed their walk down the hallway, Irving lost in his thoughts while Katie was trying to calm her blush.

It was an eerily similar situation to a few days ago, but the circumstances were worlds apart.

Irving peeked at his companion. It was indeed a wonder just how far he had come in such a short time, and for the slightest second, he felt something more than just a friendship with Katie. He couldn't quite place it, although it wasn't really hard to guess what it could be.

Ridiculous, right?

Had that feeling always been there, even when the path was never leading down that way?

Maybe he had it all along.

Maybe he had no idea it was there from the start.

Perhaps it was just sitting in his mind, waiting for the notion to be fully realized.

Then again, maybe all he had needed was a little push.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> Finally done. Thank God for that.

I probably need to start planning these stories out a little bit better so that they don't take three months plus to complete. Either that, or hire a writer to do it for me. But what fun would that be?

Writing this story was very difficult, if only for the sense of what people's perception was on the whole Katie/Irving dynamic. Yes, some people don't like it. Yes, a lot of people don't like Irving in general, for a myriad amount of reasons. To answer someone's question from a while ago...yes, I was (and am) aware that this story was not going to get a lot of outstanding reviews. The fact that I even got this amount is a surprise to me.

I hope that regardless of what your opinion is on the pairing or Irving or otherwise you enjoyed the story. I aim to please. If something seems off to you, feel free to say so in the comments. I shall try to explain myself/fix anything if need be as best I can.

I do have another Katie/Irving one-shot in the works, but that will come at another time. I have a good idea of what story I'm going to do next, so stay tuned for that.

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


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